


Hulkward Bound

by lillianresolve



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: Adulthood, Ballet, Clint Is a Good Bro, Clint is a mess, Dancing, F/M, Kid Fic, Mildly Dubious Consent, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Past Abuse, Protective Bruce Banner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 08:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5737153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillianresolve/pseuds/lillianresolve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ashley breaks up with her boyfriend and kicks herself out of their apartment at 10:00 on a Tuesday night, she does what any self-respecting college Junior would do. She calls her Dad. The next thing she knows, she is on a plane to New York and the high flying world of the Avengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

At 7:05, I start a fight with my boyfriend.

 

At 8:53, I cry and ask him if he still loves me.

 

At 9:02, he says "No".

 

At 9:05, I start packing a bag.

 

At 9:30, he asks me to stay.

 

At 9:34, I say "No" and leave.

 

I shut the door of the town house behind me and stare out into the park that separates our apartment building from the college campus next door. _What in the hell am I going to do?_ I have a test tomorrow in stagecraft and a study group for biology. And, lest I forget, nowhere to sleep for the foreseeable future.

_Frack._

Let me start by saying that I never meant to be that girl. You know the one—the girl who depends on her boyfriend for everything, who stays with him even after everyone and their Aunt Cathy has told her to leave. It just happened, and by the time I realized it, it was too late. We already had a lease and an adopted kitten. It was just easier to pretend that I was happy and hope that I would be one day. What is it they say about the best laid plans? That they end up fracking your best friend behind your back?

 

Is that not what they say? Because, you know, they should.

 

The way I see it, at this point I have three choices.

  1. I can sleep in my car and hope I don't freeze to death and attempt to find a new place to live on my own with no job and no money.
  2. I can knock on the door behind me and give up every ounce of dignity I have and ask to sleep on the couch.



Or

  1. I can call my Dad.



 

_Shit._

 

Hopefully he doesn't push it straight to voicemail.

 

" _Hello"_

_"... Hey Padre"_

_"Ashley? Why are you calling this late? Are you drunk dialing me again? You know these phone calls cost a lot of money right?"_

_"I'm not drunk dialing you, I promise. Uhm, where are you these days anyway?  Did you head back to Tibet? Or are you still in New York?"_

_"I'm still in New York. I thought I might stick around for a while. Listen, Honey, it's really late here. Why are you calling? Is everything alright?"_

_"Well, actually...Charles and I just broke up”_ I feel wet tears dripping down my face. Frack Cheating Charles and his stupid name on the stupid lease. _"I don't have anywhere to go and it's cold out and I could sleep in my car, but the heater doesn't really work and I have a test tomorrow...and I just need to not be here anymore"_

_"Ashley, where are you right now?"_

_"Standing outside our apartment"_

_"Get in your car, and drive to the airport. There will be a plane ticket waiting for you to get to New York. I'll meet you at LaGuardia in the morning. Okay?"_

 

This is not what I expected to hear at all.

 

I was expecting condolences and the tough luck, breath through the pain speech. Not a plane ticket across the country. This is the man who pinches pennies over drunken phone calls. How is he affording a last minute flight from Oregon to New York?

_"What? Are...are you sure? I can sleep in my car. I'll put on my coat. You don't need to bankrupt yourself to help me"_

_"It's not my money sweetie, it's a…favor from a friend. You'll meet him when you get here"_

_"Oh...okay Dad. I'll see you tomorrow then, I guess"_

_"Alright, I love you kiddo"_

_"I love you too, Dad. Bye"_

_"Bye"_

When I get to the airport to pick up my ticket, I nearly turn around and get back in my car. It's a first class ticket. I knew Dad had some influential (read: rich) friends, but none that could afford a first class, cross country, plane ticket for their friend's daughter at the last minute.

 

I guess I should maybe explain a little bit better. My dad is a physicist, more specifically he is a gamma ray specialist. I have no idea what that means really, except that he used to work for the government and more recently he decided to use his medical training in a sort of self-directed doctors without borders thing. I think he was trying to find himself or something. I honestly don't know. We have been sort of estranged ever since he sent me away to boarding school when I was 14. Not like 'I secretly hate you' estranged, more like 'I'll call once a month from a secret military base or a foreign country and tell you about the new yoga stance I learned' estranged. Basically, him flying me to New York in the middle of the semester because I got dumped is _very_ out of character.

 

Not that I mind though, because if Dad is trying to be more hands on after 7 years of parenting from afar, then I am all for it. Give me a curfew and a free meal over a long distance call any day of the week.

* * *

 

 

Seven hours and a very comfortable sleep later I am getting off the plane at LaGuardia and searching for Dad. He is waiting outside of security, looking better than I've seen him in years, but anything is better than a grainy webcam image, I guess.  His hair is fluffy and graying and he is wearing a purple button down shirt and gray slacks. He looks like he has put on a little weight, which is good. I know that I see him before he sees me because I can see him break into a full on grin when he spots me lugging my duffle of stuff towards him wearing his ratty Cal-tech shirt I stole when I was still a little kid and a pair of yoga pants.

 

When I reach him, he gives me a huge bear hug, "It has been way too long since I've seen you kiddo. I've missed you."

 

“I missed you too, Dad" I smile.  This was a good choice. Who cares if I'll probably have to redo the semester, it’s not like I can afford it now anyway.

 

"How are you doing with the breakup" he asks hesitantly. 

 

"I'm fine, or you know, I will be. Thank you so much for getting me here Dad. This is exactly what I needed."  I say, hugging him again.

 

When he pulls back his face is suddenly serious, "About that, kiddo, there's a lot we need to talk about—the first is who actually bought your ticket. Let's get to the car. We can talk on the drive, okay?"

 

"Let's go then." I nod and pick up my bag from where I had dropped it.

 

We walk in comfortable silence out of the airport and into the cold New York winter. I am looking for a cab, so when Dad directs me into a limo I am...surprised, to say the least.

 

"Dad, what is going on? First the plane ticket, now a limo? Did you marry a billionaire without telling me?" I laugh.

 

"I might as well have" Dad grumbles. Now I _am_ really confused.

 

"Okay", he starts, rubbing the back of his neck, “You remember last year when the incident happened in New York?"

 

I nod, everyone who wasn't living under a rock knew about the incident—the Avengers fighting off an alien invasion on live TV was kind of hard to miss.

 

"Well, you know the big green guy? I am sort of...him."

 

What. I...No. This is not happening.

 

"Good one, Dad. What's really going on?" I ask him, annoyed that he suddenly decided to get a sense of humor today.

 

"I'm not joking, kiddo.” He huffs out, “I had a lab accident when I was working for General Ross. Do you remember him?” He asks. I nod, I had met the general once before Dad sent me away.  “During the accident, I was exposed to massive amounts of gamma radiation, which turned me into...the other guy." He finishes hesitantly.

 

"But...but you're you! I can see you right now. You're not a big green thing! You're normal sized Bruce Banner!" I protest, flailing my arms around to make my point.

 

"It only happens when my heart rate increases. That's why I do all the yoga and the meditation. It's all about keeping calm so that the other guy doesn't make an appearance" He sighs, looking at me like he always does when he wishes I was a genius too.

 

"This is why you decided to go abroad." The realization hits me like a hammer to the chest. _Shit._ He is telling the truth. No wonder I haven’t seen him since I was 14, he was afraid he might—I can’t even finish the thought because it’s so ridiculous. Dad could get angry and turn into a nuclear bomb, but he would never hurt me.

 

I decide to bench the heavy Hulk talk and move on. Dad obviously thinks this is going to make me angry or scared or something, so it’s easier to just ignore it. Plus, it still doesn’t explain his super rich new friends.

 

"Okay, but that doesn't explain why you suddenly have access to a limo." I state, trying my best to look incredulous. Dad makes this face way better than I do. Dad visibly relaxes at the change of subject and I mentally pat myself on the back. Point one to the millennial Banner.

 

"That's part of it, all of this is Tony Stark's. He paid for your ticket, and we are staying in his tower too"

 

_Stark Tower?_

 

"Oh. Wow" is all I say to that. What else can I say? This whole situation is absurd. How did I not know my dad was the Hulk? Why did he not tell me? That is news you share!

 

The rest of the ride is silent. Dad is giving me time to process, I think. He was always very aware of people's needs. Very considerate in that way. 

 

As we start to get into Manhattan proper, I can see the newly christened Avenger's Tower in the distance. It’s huge and ostentatious. I get the feeling looking at it that my life is never going to go back to the way it was and I don’t know if that is good thing or not.

 

"Does Mr. Stark know that I'm coming?" I ask. If I didn't know about the Hulk, it’s possible that Dad hasn't told the Avenger's about me, I guess. Does the Hulk know who I am? Is he aware enough to know?

 

 Do I ever want to actually find out?

 

"Yes, he knows that you’re coming and that you’re my daughter. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to. It's a big tower. Tony will even give you your own apartment if you don't feel like rooming with me." Dad says softly, smiling with the corners of his mouth.

 

That's...really generous, actually. Maybe this won't be totally weird. Dad is still dad. Even if he is a secret superhero and lives with other superheroes.

 

"Does everyone else live here too?"  I ask, looking out at the tower that seems to take up most of the skyline.

 

"Natasha, Clint, and Steve all stay here. Thor spends most of his time in Asgard, and when he does come to Earth he usually stays with Jane, his girlfriend—she is an astrophysicist. Tony is trying to convince her to move into the tower as well"

 

"So 5 superheroes, a college dropout, and an astrophysicist move into a tower? That sounds like the beginning of a joke"

 

Dad chuckles at me and shakes his head, "You have no idea, kiddo."  Then he looks at me as we pull into an underground parking garage, "You ready for this?" 

 

Honestly, no. I am in no way ready to meet the Avengers and sit down at a breakfast table with Captain fracking America. This is beyond anything life could have prepared me for.  

 

The elevator from the parking garage takes us to a sparkling marble lobby. "We just need to grab your credentials and get you set up with access to the labs and the living spaces."

 

"Oh okay" I say as we approach the woman sitting behind the long marble desk. She looks like she should be a supermodel, not a receptionist. I am suddenly self-conscious in my old ratty t-shirt. Did I bring anything else? I try and remember what I had hastily packed while fighting with Charles at 9:00 last night. Crap. I think I only have one pair of jeans and a couple other t-shirts. I might have grabbed my scene-painting pants too. Nothing that will fit in at Stark Tower.

 

Charles would be livid with me for even stepping foot in this building looking the way I do now.  

 

"Here," Dad says, after he's finished quietly conversing with Ms. Supermodel. He is holding out a little white plastic square. "Put this in your wallet, it's your key to the lab and to the apartment. You don’t have to do anything, the locks will sense the RFID signal" Next he hands me the newest stark phone model, "This is to replace the flip phone I know you're still using. It's a gift from Tony, so don't lose it or break it, okay?"

 

Oh wow. "Yes, sir." I say trying to be as affirmative as possible while shoving my wallet back in the back of my Yoga pants and pulling out my old crappy dead phone. It slips from my hand and the battery casing goes flying.  

 

Dad always says that there is a landfill with my name on it somewhere full of all the things I've lost or broken. He gives me an exasperated look and shakes his head, "Just do your best, okay kiddo?"

 

I squat down and put the old phone back together and trade Dad for the new one, which I lovingly stuff in the elastic waistband of my yoga pants. The phone is both thinner and flatter than my old one and the cold hardness of feels nice against my abdomen.

 

I smile up at Dad and he pulls me into a quick hug. He's not overly tall, but he is still a good 8 inches taller than me. I enthusiastically blame him for the fact that I am only 5'2.

 

 "Alright,” He says, letting me go and steering back towards the elevators, “Let's head upstairs then." As we step in, he smiles mischievously down at me, "You're going to like this, kiddo"

 

He clears his throat, "JARVIS?"

 

"Welcome Back, Dr. Banner. I trust you had a good trip to the airport?"  A British voice says from nowhere.

 

My jaw drops open, "Holy shit."

 

"Miss Banner, excuse me for surprising you, my name is JARVIS and I run the building. Should you ever need anything simply ask for me by name and I will do whatever I can"

 

"Thank you, JARVIS" I say. Tony Stark has an electronic butler. That is pretty fracking cool.

 

"Dr. Banner, did you require anything?" JARVIS asks.

 

"Yes, can you inform Tony that Ashley and I are here and will meet him on the communal floor in a little bit?"

 

"Right away, Dr. Banner"

 

"Thanks, JARVIS. That will be all" Dad says politely.

 

"That...is really, really cool!" I exclaim, bouncing on my toes.

 

"I thought you might like it. Do you want to know how he works?" Dad grins at me. He always does this. He wishes I was a super geek like him, but instead I am a theatre major who failed remedial math twice. I give Dad a look that clearly says 'what do you think?'

 

"I suppose not.” He laughs, “How are your classes going? Is your stage management class everything you wanted it to be?"

 

"Yeah, it’s totally fantastic! They brought in an adjunct faculty from the Shakespeare Festival to teach it. She’s amazing, but I'm going to have to take it again because I'm missing too many days for this trip. I honestly don't know if I even want to go back." I reply, dropping out isn't such a big deal in the theatre world. I have enough shows on my resume to hopefully get a job somewhere. Plus, now I am in New York, so the work available to me just tripled.  

 

Dad purses his lips at me, but doesn't say anything. It's not like he was paying my tuition. He knows he can't make this decision for me.

 

The elevator dings and the doors open into a standard looking apartment. There is a picture of dad and me on a shelf and a ton of books everywhere, but other than that it doesn’t seem like Dad has really decorated at all.

 

"The, uh, guest room is down that hallway. Unless you want your own space. I can talk to Tony about getting you an apartment..."  Dad says that last part awkwardly. My guess is the last time he shared a living space is when I was 14.

 

"No, it's okay. I can sleep in the guest room.” I assure him, “It's not a big deal. Besides when was the last time we lived in the same space?" I joke. The truth is I can remember every detail of the last time we lived together. We had this little apartment and Dad slept on the couch so that I could have the only bedroom and he used the kitchen table as his home office. Our upstairs neighbors were these little old ladies who would occasionally take pity on us and bring us weird Russian and Armenian themed casseroles for dinner. It was the best time of my life and I fully plan on soaking up all the parenting Dad has to offer for as long as it lasts. It’ll probably be a couple weeks before he turns back into science Dad, and starts spending all of his time in the lab and only remembering I exist once every couple weeks.

 

The guest room is huge. Like ‘it actually belongs in a castle’ huge. I put my bag down and lay back on the King-sized bed. Who puts a king sized bed in a guest room? I’m just getting comfortable when I hear a light knocking on the door, "Come in!" I call sitting up on my elbows. Dad opens the door and leans against the frame.

 

"Everyone is upstairs on the communal floor waiting to meet you, if you’re feeling up to it" he says, "They can be a bit much at first, so just...forgive them? They are excited. None of them have kids, so you’re the first ever addition to our weird Avengers family"

 

The Avengers are excited to meet me? "You told them I'm not a super geek like you right? That I'm just a normal person?"

 

Dad laughs quietly at this, "Yes, they know you're not a super geek"

 

"Okay, then", I say getting up and straightening my Cal-tech shirt. I really need to go shopping if I'm going to be here for a while, "Let's do this"


	2. Chapter 2

The group of people waiting around the communal kitchen seems unreal, and not because I know for a fact that they are all superheroes. It’s because they are all super fracking attractive. Is that a prerequisite to being a superhero? How did Dad get into this club? I mean, he's no slouch, but he's got nothing on Tony Stark or Captain America, let alone the brunette guy and the red headed woman lounging near the fridge.

 

"Everyone," Dad says, gesturing to the America’s Next Top Model contestants, "This is Ashley, my daughter"

 

"Hi... uh...everyone" I smile and do my best to look like I didn't just get dumped and call my Daddy to save me.

 

"I'm Natasha" the red headed supermodel says giving me what she probably thinks of as a welcoming smile. In reality, it just looks like she is auditioning for a Crest commercial.

 

"And this is Steve" she says, pointing to the tall blond mass of muscle leaning on the island. He smiles gently and gives me a little wave.

 

"Clint", Natasha is now pointing to the brunette man, who nods at me.

 

"And you probably recognize Tony" she finishes, pointing towards Tony Stark. The guy who paid for my plane ticket and gave me a new phone. Tony is leaning back against the island with his arms crossed. There is a blue light from the device in his chest shining through his Def Leppard shirt.

 

"Mr. Stark," I say, crossing and offering my hand to shake, "Thank you so much for the phone, and the plane ticket, and allowing me to stay in your tower. I just…” I take a deep breath, “Thank you" and I mean it, this is the guy who is keeping my Dad in New York and giving me the opportunity to actually spend some time with him. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to repay that.

 

Tony almost looks touched, but it fades after a millisecond and he smiles charmingly, winking, "Kid, call me Tony, please, and don’t worry about any of that stuff. Bruce was gonna whine for, like, a week if I didn't get you all set up--besides someone's gotta help me keep the big guy in line"

 

"She is not getting anywhere near the other guy, Tony. Don't even think about it." Dad says, glaring with crossed arms and squared shoulders. This is the same stance that Dad used to take with me when I was little and wanted to eat candy for breakfast. It’s weird to see him give it to a grown man, let alone the billionaire who is letting us stay in his house.

 

"B-b-but...Science!" Tony stutters looking like someone kicked his puppy.

 

"So, Ashley" says Steve cutting Tony off from what I’m guessing was going to an epic rant about the virtues of getting me and the Hulk in the same room, "Bruce says you are taking some time off school. What were you studying?"

 

"Theatre", I respond promptly, "Though, it might less of a break and more like dropping out. I haven't really decided yet"

 

"So you're an actor?" Asks Clint, hopping up on the counter.

 

"No, god no" I say shaking my head, "I'm a stage manager. I run the backstage side of things on a production."

 

He nods his head in acknowledgement, "I was in the circus growing up and our SM practically raised me. She was awesome. Dangerous and scary, but great"

 

"That's really cool" I say, smiling at him and giving him a once over. Clint definitely looks good in the purple t-shirt he is wearing—it stretches in all the right places if you know what I mean.

 

"So, who's hungry?" Dad asks, stopping my impromptu drool session over Mr. Biceps. Immediately all four hands go up around the room and Dad just shakes his head and chuckles, "Is curry good with everyone?" He asks, walking across the kitchen to pull out a large pan. Are they letting Dad cook? Oh dear, this is going to end in disaster.

 

"No! Why don't we just order something?" I suggest taking the pan away from Dad, "No need to let Dad burn the tower down." Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Clint all look at me with their brows furrowed in confusion. "With the stove? ...Because he can't cook to save his life?" I explain to the pack of confused faces. Surely they know this about Dad by now.

 

"Dad, tell them.” I say, gesturing wildly with the frying pan and glancing back at my father who is just grinning cheekily back at me. “Tell them how you set our stove on fire when I was 12 and you tried to make me mac n cheese out of a box."

 

That is not an exaggeration. We had to eat out of the microwave for two weeks, and he nearly set that on fire too.

 

"I've learned a thing or two since then, kiddo. I had to feed myself somehow in India, didn't I?" He says, gently removing the pan from my grasp and placing it on the stove top.

 

"I...okay...if you say so, Padre" I give in.

 

Everyone else starts to filter into the next room and I awkwardly follow them, figuring Dad should probably concentrate if he is going to insist on cooking.

 

The room is filled with a huge plush looking couch and 2 very comfortable looking armchairs all facing the biggest TV I have ever seen in my life. All of the superheroes find places to lounge gracefully as I hover near the doorway.

 

I am thinking about turning around and just sitting quietly in the kitchen while Dad cooks. When I hear Tony’s voice from sitting area, "Hey, mini Banner, come sit. We have invasive and personal questions to ask you!" I turn back around to face the group and give them my best ‘I actually have social skills, I promise’ smile.

 

 

"I...okay" I stutter, making my way to sit on the floor by the couch. Clint is taking up most of the sitting space with his legs and Natasha is sitting comfortably on the other end. Tony and Steve sit in the arm chairs. I wonder how everyone fits in the living room when Thor is here too. I can't imagine any of these people sitting on the floor. And Thor is supposed to be god or something, right? Maybe they have other chairs that Tony puts out for when he is here. Maybe Thor’s chair is actually a throne—

 

"So, Banner" Clint starts, interrupting my thought process, and looking down at me, "Bruce won't tell us anything about your mom. What's the deal there?" Of course they want to know about my mom, everyone wants to know about my mom.

 

"Honestly, you probably know just as much as I do" I say lightly, "Dad met her as an undergrad. She got pregnant. Dad wanted to keep the baby and she didn't. And now here I am, the only daughter of our very own Dr. Bruce Banner." I’ve never met my mom, and Dad won’t even tell me her name so I’ve never gone looking for her or anything.

 

Tony actually looks put out by how unexciting my back story is, "Okay, so where have you been for the last 7 years?" He asks, leaning forward in his armchair, obviously hoping for some juicy gossip.

 

"Boarding school and then college. Both in Oregon." I shrug

 

"And now you’re dropping out?" Steve asks looking genuinely worried. I get the feeling he is genuinely worried a lot.

 

"I don't really know yet. I mean, the plan was always to move to New York when I graduated, and now I'm already here." I explain, "It seems silly to go back now."

 

Plus you know, Cheating Charles and stupid Emily and all their stupid friends who are probably taking their side in this whole mess. Cheating Charles doesn't even know that I know about Emily. Going back would mean dealing with the cluster-frack that my social life has turned into.

 

"Your Dad told us what happened after you called last night", Natasha says gently, "You shouldn't let some stupid asshole shape your future"

 

Oh, well, shit, now they must really think I am a mess of a person.

 

"Well, it's my life, and Dad isn’t paying for my college, so I can let stupid Cheating Charles effect my future all I want." I snap. I bet no one has ever dumped supermodel Natasha, let alone cheated on her. She has no idea what I am going through and no right to have an opinion about my life. My Dad hasn't even questioned my choice yet, why should she?

 

"Cheating Charles?" Clint asks, raising his eyebrows. I nod staring back into his wide eyes and have to clamp a hand over my mouth as I start to giggle. I've been calling him that in my head for a few days (ever since I accidentally walked in on him and Stupid Emily in our bed, and quietly backed away without them noticing), but I hadn't ever said it out loud. Clint starts laughing a second after I do and pretty soon we are both gasping for breath as Tony, Steve, and Natasha smile indulgently at us like we are a couple of adorable toddlers. I think Clint is officially my favorite, and when I tell him so, he beams and rubs my shoulder with one hand.

 

His hand is still on my shoulder when Dad walks in announcing that food is ready. He glares at Clint as he passes by him to get back to the kitchen and gives Natasha a significant look. She shakes her head slightly and he sighs. What the hell is that about? I smile at Dad and follow him into the kitchen. To my surprise there is actually food on the counter, and it even looks edible. I guess Dad wasn't kidding when he said he learned to cook.

 

The meal is delicious (to my genuine surprise) and everyone spends the whole time ribbing each other and chatting amiably about their days and what someone called Dr. Doom is planning next. Clint sits next to me and sneakily throws peas at Tony until he finally snaps "Barton! I will program your arrows to spit spray cheese in your face if you don't stop!" Everyone laughs and Clint takes to sneakily poking me in the side and making funny designs in his rice.

 

During the meal I notice Dad and Natasha smiling at each other and Dad casually putting a hand on her arm as he speaks before noticing what he’s done and pulling it back. Something is definitely going on there. I wonder if everyone knows. Are they trying to be secretive because of me? I make a mental note to corner Dad about it later. If he and Natasha are a thing he doesn't need to hide it. I'm a grown up, I can handle my dad dating someone, even supermodel Natasha.

 

After lunch everyone goes their separate ways. Steve mentions something about going to the gym and Natasha follows. Clint says he's heading to the roof for some reason. Tony and Dad start talking about some crazy science thing. Dad stops and asks if I'll be okay and tells me to just ask JARVIS for directions to the lab if I need something before he and Tony run off chatting like a couple of gossiping schools girls, if school girls gossiped about quantum mechanics or something.

 

Alone, I sit down at the table and pull my new Stark phone out of the band of my yoga pants. If I am going to be here for any length of time then I am definitely going to need to do some shopping. After setting up the phone and my new passcode, I download my banking app to see if I have any money to blow. It turns out I do. Charles must not have emptied it when I left. Weird. I assume that would’ve been the first thing he did.

 

"Hey JARVIS?" I ask hesitantly, hoping I don't look like a fool. Maybe he only works in the elevator?

 

"Yes, Miss Banner? What can I do for you?"

 

"Is there a good cheap place to go shopping around here? I need some new clothes if I'm gonna be sticking around."

 

"I will download a map of stores and their price ranges to your phone, is that acceptable?"

 

"Yeah, totes. Thank you JARVIS." This whole electronic butler thing is super fracking cool.

 

"Miss Banner?" JARVIS asks.

 

"Yes?"

 

"I should inform you that Dr. Banner has requested you not venture into the city alone due to Dr. Doom's most recent threats. May I suggest asking Mr. Barton to join you? He is currently located on the roof. I can direct you to him, if you like."

 

Oh, well I guess if there is a threat against the city that makes sense. Plus, it kind of makes me feel all mushy that Dad wants to make sure I am safe, "Sure, Jarv, that sounds great. Can I call you Jarv?" I ask. Is it weird to give a computer a nickname?

 

"If you wish Miss Banner, though might I suggest simply J? That is what Sir calls me and I rather enjoy it. If you proceed to the elevator I will take you to the roof, Miss Banner"

 

Cool, I guess it's not weird, "Beam me up, J" I say, stepping into the elevator.

 

When I get to the roof, Clint is shooting arrows at a target from a bow. An actual bow, like it’s the fracking 1400s.

 

"Oh!" I exclaim, “You’re Hawkguy!" Clint turns his head and glares at me while shooting his next arrow. It hits dead center of the target, "Actually, it's Hawk _eye_ " he says looking back at the target and smiling at his perfect aim.

 

"Oh. Sorry Hawk _eye_ " I say in a pretentious voice and grin at him, "Anyway Clint, I realized I only packed yoga pants and old t-shirts and I wanted to know if you wanted to go shopping with me. I had JARVIS make a map of all the cheap, cool stores." I say holding my phone out so he can see the super cool list.

 

Clint puts down his bow and jogs over to me with his arrows bouncing in the sheath on his back, "Sounds cool" he says, taking my phone and perusing the list. He hands it back to me and saying, "Let's stop by my place on the way down so I can put this stuff away?" I nod and he runs back to grab his bow before meeting me by the elevator.

 

"So, what's with my Dad and Natasha?" I question once we are on our way down. Clint shakes his head and laughs, "Yeah, they are not subtle. They hooked up, like, 2 months ago? I think. Anyway, I guess they are trying to keep it on the DL. They haven't said anything to anyone yet, so don't feel singled out."

 

"So they are just, what? Scared of people's reactions?" I say, turning to look at Clint, "That's dumb. From what Dad told me, the other guy only comes out when he is angry—so I doubt anyone would react badly anyway, out of, you know, SMASH fear." I start miming Hulk smashing what would probably be Steve's face and Clint grins.

 

"True dat." He says as the elevator stops, "I'll be back in a minute"

 

"Hulk SMASH minute!" I yell still miming the Hulk. I can hear Clint cracking up as we walks down the hallway. Ha! I made the supersexyhot boy laugh. Point 1 to Ashley.

 

Shopping with Clint is surprisingly fun. He laughs at all my jokes and says things like "Fabulous, Darling!" and "Sooo Fancy!" in a fake British accent when I model different outfits for him. He also tries on anything I throw at him no matter what and comes out of the changing room so I can laugh hysterically. We spend almost the whole time being silly and laughing together, moving from store to store and giggling at the sales people that glare at us.

 

After I've gotten a few pairs of jeans, some shirts, and a nice cocktail dress at Clint's recommendation (apparently Tony likes to throw parties in the Tower and make attendance mandatory) I excuse myself to slip into a bathroom and change out of the T-Shirt and yoga pants combo I've been rocking since I got on the plane last night. The new clothes feel heavenly on my skin and I come out of the bathroom smiling in a new pair of skinny jeans and a flowing long sleeve tunic. Clint is leaning against the wall near the bathroom looking relaxed and totally alert at the same time. How does he manage to do that and look like a fracking model all at once? He lets out a low whistle when I walk up to him and I twirl for him like I'm wearing a ball-gown.

 

"Looking good, lady" he laughs, "You ready to head out? Or do you wanna go grab a drink or something? There's a good bar about a block and a half from here. Very defensible."

 

Of course 'very defensible' is his only requirement for it to be a good bar. I'm about to voice my consent for massive amounts of alcohol consumption (I did just get dumped, okay) when I suddenly start to feel woozy. I must stumble a bit because the next thing I know, Clint has his arm around my waist to hold me steady.

 

"Yeah, we'll rain check on that drink. You need to get home and sleep" I nod and wince as the world starts to spin.

 

"Is this what Jet Lag feels like? This is terrible." I say as Clint leads me into a cab.

 

"Don't worry", he assures, "You'll feel better after a good sleep in a real bed."

 

I must have fallen asleep in the cab because the next thing I know Clint is gently shaking me awake from where I am curled into his side.

 

"C'mon princess, your castle awaits" he says putting his arm around my waist again.

 

"As long as there isn't a pea under my mattress, we should be fine" I joke, leaning in to him slightly more than necessary. Clint chuckles and smiles down at me. The elevator beeps as we reach my apartment and Clint carefully detaches himself before the door opens.

 

"Bye Clint. Thanks for shopping with me. I have to sleep now" I mumble towards him leaning up and kissing him on the cheek before the elevator doors close again. I make my way to my room to collapse into the giant, soft, wonderful thing that is my new bed.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Clint**

I knew it was all over when Ashley sleepily pecked a kiss on my cheek. I’ve had more fun this afternoon than I’ve had in years and with a simple kiss on my cheek this girl has totally stolen my heart. This is not good. There's no way that this whole mess doesn't end up with her hurt even more than she is now and my face Hulk smashed until it looks like mashed potatoes and spaghetti. Frackity, frack. Not to mention the fact that Kate is gonna give me so much shit. Where is Cap to tear me a new one when I need it?

"Mr. Barton, would you like to go to the roof?" JARVIS asks. It's creepy the way he always knows everything. Tony says it's cause there are surveillance cameras everywhere, but I've never been able to spot one—and they call me Hawkeye, so there ya go. I’m convinced it’s black magic.

"No thanks J. Could you actually take me to the gym? I wanna see what Nat is up to." I'm not going to tell Cap about Ashley, not yet (he probably won’t punch me, but he will give me his disappointed look and you have to mentally prepare for that shit).

However, telling Nat before I do something stupid is usually better than her finding out later. And when it comes to Ashley I am most definitely gonna end up doing something stupid.

Natasha is doing pirouettes in the front of the mirror when I find her in the gym. I'm no expert, but she makes it look absolutely effortless. I guess having Russian psychopaths as ballet instructors make that kind of stuff stick. She stops mid turn when she spots me in the mirror behind her.

"You were out with Bruce's kid" she states. Natasha is very good at not letting you know what she is thinking. People sometimes think that I must have the upper hand in our relationship because I'm the one that brought her in, but those people have never met Nat.

"Yeah" I sigh, going to sit in front of the mirror so she can continue her practice while we talk. Nat drags a bar over and starts working her feet. Nat doesn't have to push someone into talking because she usually already knows what their going to say, and is just waiting for them to confirm her suspicions.

"I...she's really funny," I say lamely. Nat tilts her chin down to look at me and raise her eyebrow while doing a flawless develope, raising her leg slowly into the air near her head and lowering it back down. My life would be so much easier if I could just fall in love with Natasha. She's already my work wife (though she would eviscerate me with a spork if I ever said that out loud) and she knows that I am a mess of a person and still puts up with me. Unfortunately, my heart is determined to get me killed by a giant green rage monster. Goddammit.

"We had fun. A lot of fun." I explain, Nat just raises an eyebrow.

"She kissed me on the cheek." I try, knowing I sound like a sad puppy.

"She is young. Only 21." Nat says like it means anything to either of us. When you hang out with ageless super soldiers and gods, age stops really meaning anything. "Also, she just broke up with her boyfriend" Nat says this as lightly as possible, giving nothing away about her feeling on the subject. I guess that is actually totally a valid concern.

"I know, but..." I trail off.

It's been a while since I've actually felt feelings for a girl, so I'm pretty much in this, even if she is just on the rebound. I can tell Nat gets it because she nods and purses her lips like she does when she knows she isn't gonna be able to talk me out of doing something stupid. It's the same look she gave me when all that stuff went down with the mafia and my old building.

She stops her barre exercises with a sigh and gracefully collapses next me to me, "You know I can't protect you when this goes bad, right? Bruce and I..." She trails off, falling silent.

This is as close as she's come to actually telling me about her new relationship. Nat feels feelings even less than I do, so I totally understand that she has to put that above me and my shit. I nod and grab her hand between us. She laces our fingers together squeezes.

We sit like that for a while in the gym. Just silently holding hands. We used to do this a lot after she defected from the motherland. For a long time it was the only physical contact either us of would have. It's nice to know that even though things are changing, we'll always be each other's point of contact.

When Bruce walks into the gym a little while later, he doesn't even give us a second look. He just asks politely if Natasha would like to go have a cup of tea with him and she almost smiles before getting up to walk out of the gym.

He really is good for her, and I am happy at she has found some happiness in this fracked up world.

* * *

 

 

**Natasha**

Bruce crowds me against the elevator wall as soon as the door closes and kisses me fiercely. I really like this side of him—the wild and passionate side that no one sees under the mild-mannered scientist. Bruce moves his kisses to my neck and I thread my fingers into his hair. He kisses me one more time on the mouth before backing up and breathing deeply.

"Sorry. I just...I'm having a good day" he smiles, "I really did mean to invite you for tea, not just...that" he gestures vaguely at the elevator wall where he had pinned me.

"Mmm-hmm" I nod sagely. "So, are you happy Ashley is back? What did you guys do this afternoon?" Of course I already know that he and Ashley haven’t seen each other since lunch, but it's as close as I can get to actually scolding him for abandoning his daughter without spilling the beans about Clint.

"Oh, I, uh, actually spent the afternoon in the lab. I figured she would want some alone time. I told her about...the other guy, and I wanted to give her some time" he stutters, "Plus, you know, the breakup. No girl wants to hang out with her dad after something like that" I blank my expression and stare at him. Men are clueless. Of course she needs her dad. If Bruce had paid her any attention during the last few years she probably wouldn't have spent the afternoon low key seducing my best friend.

She probably wouldn’t have been with Cheating Charles either as a matter of fact.

"Was that...wrong?" he asks, tilting his head.

I decide to give him a little mercy, "Yes, Bruce. She needs you. What do you think happened last night in Oregon?"

"She split up with her boyfriend and…called me because she was scared," He explains tentatively.

"And do you know anything about who her boyfriend was? Why did they split up? What was their relationship like?" I already know the answers to all these questions because while Bruce was asking Tony for a plane ticket and freaking about seeing his daughter in person for the first time in nearly a decade, I was pulling SHEILD files and learning everything I could about Charles Neilson and his relationship with Bruce's daughter.

The girl may not particularly like me at the moment, and Bruce has definitely made his share of mistakes with her, but she is his daughter and that makes her…important to me. I feel weirdly protective of this girl I hardly know. She’s had to fend for herself for a long time, and I just want her to be safe and taken care of. I want her to feel loved.

If love is for children, then she deserves to be a child just a while longer.

"What do you know Natasha?" Bruce asks very seriously. He knows I don't ask questions I don't already know the answers to. He jokes sometimes that I should go into law if super spying doesn't pan out.

"I know a lot of things Bruce,” I nod. “But I'm not going to tell you. She needs to be the one to do that, but..." I need to tread carefully here, Bruce is fragile on his best days and this might send him over the edge.

"It’s not good Bruce. It's not horrible, but it is certainly not positive" I press my lips together to keep me from saying anything more.

Bruce obviously thinks that Charles was some punk undergrad. I shouldn't tell him that he is actually a professor at a nearby private college. Or that Charles is 34, closer to Bruce's age than Ashley's.

I certainly shouldn't tell him that Charles was paying her rent and most of her tuition (which is why, I suspect, she is thinking about dropping out), or that Ashley's friends had messaged each other about strange bruises they had noticed on the girl, and suspected (as do I) that Charles caused them.

I can't tell Bruce these things because they are not mine to tell. Being a good spy is about knowing all the information, but only sharing what is necessary. Secrets are power—and Ashley needs all the power she can get right now.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

 

**Ashley POV**

 

When I wake up the next morning my phone display tells me it's 4:30am—too early to be awake. Why am I awake? 

 

As I stare at the foreign ceiling above me, the events of the last 48 hours come back all at once. Cheating Charles, my father the Hulk, kissing Clint Barton—That part wasn't so bad. Actually most of yesterday was pretty great. It's too early do anything else, so I decide to log onto Facebook with my phone.

 

37 messages and 23 notifications. Wow. Did someone die? I click into the messages first...and of course it's Charles. 

 

_Where are you?  3:45 AM_

 

_Ashley, I am so sorry baby. Please come home.  5:00 AM_

 

_Where are you sleeping tonight?  4:00 PM_

 

_Where the fuck are you? You better get your ass home.  9:00 PM_

 

_Fine. Don't answer me. Tuition is due next week. Have fun with that.  9:15 PM_

 

_You fucking whore. Who did you fuck to convince them to let you sleep there last night?_

_12:04 AM_

_Please, Baby. Come home. I love you. 2:00 AM_

 

I stop looking after that, but it looks like the rest of the messages are from him as well. The notifications are links to homework from friends and various frowny  faces and comments on my absence from class. My stagecraft professor posted that I could retake the rest. That was nice of him. 

 

Tears prickle the back of my eyes and I before I know it I am full on crying. I lie back and let the tears stream down either side of my face. Why am I crying? Charles was an asshole. I know that, I'm not dumb. It's not like I actually miss him. Except for the way he would hold my hand when we would sit on the couch and read together, and the way he would kiss the back of my neck while we were in bed like I was precious to him for some reason. There were good times with Charles. There _were_. He _did_ love me—he just didn't always know how to show it, and it didn't help that I was always doing things that would make him mad or jealous. "I can't control my emotions baby. You just need to be better next time, okay?" 

 

I could forgive the yelling and the name-calling,  even the hitting that one time (it was only once, and it was my fault—I shouldn't have gone to the bar without him, shouldn't have been talking to another man, shouldn't have let him flirt with me). 

 

I can't forgive the cheating though. Everything else he did was because he loved me, but sleeping with Emily? There is no love in that, and it fracking hurts. It hurts more than anything I've ever felt. What did I do to deserve this. Why wasn't I good enough? Why did he have to sleep with Emily? What does she have that I don't? 

 

I don't notice that I'm sobbing audibly until there is a soft knock on the door. 

 

"Ashley, are you okay kiddo?" calls Dad softly from the other side of the door. 

 

I jump to my feet and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. When I open door, I do my best to smile, "Sorry, trouble with my contacts. What's up?" I know my excuse is shaky, and I don't actually wear contacts, but Dad doesn't know one way or the other and it's the best I can come up with on short notice. My Dad looks at me skeptically before nodding,"O...okay. I'm gonna go make breakfast in the kitchen upstairs. Do you wanna come up and join us?" 

 

"Yeah, let me clean up and get dressed and stuff" I say brightly closing the door. Frack, I so don't wanna deal with people right now. And my face is probably all puffy and gross. Charles wouldn't even look at me if I had been crying because my face got so messed up. 

 

I take a deep breath. I can do this. So what if the Avengers see my post-cry face. It's not like they know me—for all they know is is just how my face is. 

 

I throw on some of my new clothes and jet through the apartment into the elevator. On the way up JARVIS informs me that it's only Dad, Steve, and Clint upstairs. Well at least supermodel Natasha wont see my puffy face. 

 

The communal floor smells like bacon and waffles and the scent instantly reminds me of home. For all that Dad can't cook, he rocks at bacon and waffles. I remember when my very first boyfriend and I broke up, Dad made bacon and waffles everyday for a week to cheer me up. 

 

It occurs to me that that is probably what he is trying to do now. Which means he knows that I was actually crying this morning and probably feels terrible about it. _Frack._

 

I paste on my best smile and head into the kitchen. I lean in and hug Dad as I pass by him to get to the coffee. He points to the caramel flavored creamer sitting next to it and I feel a wave of affection. Dad must have gone out and bought my favorite coffee creamer at some point in the last day or so. 

 

I take my coffee and plop myself down in a chair next to Clint and poke him in the side. He is holding his head in his hands and grunts in response. I give Dad a look and gesture towards Clint, "I wouldn't let him have the rest of the coffee until I knew you had already gotten some." he laughs, opening the waffle maker with a gentle hiss. The smell fills the kitchen and my stomach growls audibly. 

 

"Hungry?" Dad asks, smiling. 

 

I nod and nudge Clint with my elbow, "You can get coffee now" 

 

He looks up at me like he is just realizing I am there and is suddenly up and scrambling across he kitchen towards the coffee pot. He picks up the carafe and pours the hot liquid straight into his mouth and chugs. 

 

I stare, dumbstruck, and look over at my Dad who is steadfastly ignoring the man child drinking coffee next to him. 

 

These people are insane. 

 

When Clint is finished he rinses out the carafe and sets up the machine to brew again, looking significantly more awake. 

 

Steve has been sitting at the head of the table reading newspaper and drinking tea this whole time. The picture of an adult steadfastly ignoring the children.  

 

"Good morning, Steve" I smile. 

 

"Morning, Ashley. Have you got any plans today?" He asks politely, looking up from the newspaper in his hands and smiling. 

 

"Not really. I should probably let some people know that I'm here so they don't worry about me, and I need to call the university and talk to someone about my options" I sip my coffee and watch the muscles in Dads shoulders tighten and then relax a breath later. He doesn't say anything though. Good. 

 

"Hmm, well I am going to be in the gym most of the morning with Natasha and Clint if you want to come watch. Clint and Natasha sparring is quite the sight, if I say so myself." He smirks and I look over to see a light brush of pink across Clint's cheeks. 

 

"Actually" Dad cuts in, placing a plate of food in front of me, " I have some things I would like to discuss with Ashley this morning." His voice is oddly grave.  He must want to talk about me dropping out of school. I don't know how I'm going to explain that I'm dropping out because I can't afford it without Charles's help. 

 

"Oh, okay Dad. Whatever you need" I say forcing a cheery grin onto my face. 

 

The rest of breakfast goes smoothly, with Clint sitting next to me and cracking jokes and Steve snarking right back at him. 

 

Steve Rodgers sure doesn't look like he would be a little shit, but by god he most definitely is. 

 

After the food is all gone (mostly thanks to Steve), he and Clint get up and head to the gym and Dad suggests we head down to the apartment for our talk. 

 

Once we are both seated on the comfy couch Dad turns to me with a serious expression and asks "Did Charles abuse you?" 

 

"What?" I blink, stunned. There is no way Dad could know this. And it's not like it was abuse anyway. He was a bad guy, but he wasn't abusive.

 

"Why would you think that?" I ask. I must have done something to make it seem that way. I must have messed up somehow. 

 

Dad looks at me for a long time before taking a deep breath and looking away. 

 

"Natasha said she looked into it, and that was the conclusion she came to." He voice is soft and tentative, like he's talking to a wounded animal, "she wouldn't tell me specifics, though. That's why I am asking and not just flying off the handle" Dad takes a few more calming breathes as my vision slowly bleeds red. 

 

How fracking dare little miss supermodel barge into my life and make assumptions. No one knows what went on between me and Charles. No one. And it's none of her fracking business anyway. Who cares if he wasn't a great guy. He took care of me, which is a damn site better than I can say about anyone else in my life.

 

The next thing I know I am in the gym rushing towards Natasha's tuned back as she chats with Steve. My hands slam into her and she stumbles forward into Cap's broad chest. She turns with a stunned expression on her face, her mouth falling open in shock. My arm reels back and is slamming into her jaw before I can think.

 

"You don't know anything!" I yell, watching as she rubs her jaw and looks back at me with a sad look on her face. "How dare you tell my dad about Charles! You don't know anything!"

 

There are tears running down my face now, but I can't stop screaming long enough to care.

 

"You think you know anything about me? You don't! Your freaking NSA file won't tell you shit about me and Charles, you nasty _bitch_! It won't tell you how he would kiss my hair or hug me. It won't tell you how we used to go to midnight movie releases and he would carry me inside when I fell asleep in the car on the way home. It won't tell you how he would spend hours in the dance studio with me while I practiced a new piece! You think you know anything about us? You don't!" I finish, taking great heaving breathes. Natasha just gives me a cold look. He face suddenly set in stone. Cold, beautiful, marble. 

 

"Are you done?" She asks, tilting her head, "Because I would love to tell you what I do know. I know that Charles was 34 years old and paying for your rent _and_ tuition. Do you know that abusers do that kind of shit to make you dependent on them? I know that there was at least one occasion where he hit you, and you told your friends you fell on a big rock. I know that your neighbors have filed multiple noise complaints about you because they can hear him screaming at you through the wall." He voice has gotten steadily softer as she speaks and now I am the only person in the room who can hear her, "I know you had an abortion 6 months ago, even though your a known member of your schools pro-life group." Natasha is wrapping her arms around me now and and I can't stop the tide of tears erupting from my eyes. I sob loudly and clutch at the soft fabric of her shirt. She lowers us to the ground and holds me while I cry. 

 

"He was a bad guy" I mutter into her hair, "but it wasn't that bad, there were good times. He never really hurt me" I hiccup pulling back to look at her. 

 

"I know you think that" she says softly, brushing my hair out of my face, "But there are so many other ways to hurt someone than just physically" 

 

"Did everyone hear that?" I ask after a few more moments, looking around to see that everyone had left at some point during the argument.

 

"Yes, but everyone in this building has their own demons. No one is going to judge you for yours" Natasha says,  nodding. 

 

"I'm...uh... Sorry I punched you. I think I had a rage blackout" I say quietly and Natasha laughs. 

 

"I guess that runs in the family" she giggles. And yeah, I guess it does. 

 

"So you're a dancer?" She asks arranging herself so we are sitting crosslegged in front of each other. 

 

"Yeah. Ballet for 8 years and modern for 5. A little jazz and hip hop, but nothing serious" I say, happy for the change in subject. My tears have subsided now and I wipe at my eyes and nose with my sleeve. 

 

"Ballet for...longer than I care to admit. I started as a little girl" she says pointing at herself, "Do you want to do a ballet barre with me? It always helps me feel steadier." She asks hesitantly. 

 

I nod, "Yes, please. Let me go change into some yoga pants and a different bra?" 

 

"I'll set up the barre." She smiles. 

 

When I come back, Natasha had pulled a ballet barre in front of the large mirror in the corner of the gym. She plugs her phone into the stereo system and joins me at the barre. I loose myself, slowly in the feeling of being totally aware of every muscle and joint in my body. I am vaguely aware that Natasha's technique is very Russian, but we work together well following each other from exercise to exercise without having to say a word. 

When the music stops, I am sweating. My body feels good in the way only a good barre can make it feel. Natasha asks if I want to do some across the floor and I nod enthusiastically. She flicks through something in her phone before settling on a playlist.

 

"Leaps?" She asks, grinning and I say "Yes!" I don't know any dancer that doesn't absolutely love leaps. It's as close you can get to actually having wings. 

 

We spend another half hour hurling ourselves gracefully into the air. When the music stops this time I turn to her smiling, "So your dating my dad, right?" 

 

She pauses just for a moment, and then nods blushing prettily. 

 

"Is that okay?" She asks. 

 

"Absolutely." And I mean it. Natasha isn't so bad. She’s nosey and she definitely overstepped, but she is also a good person. 

 

"Do I need to give you the shovel talk?" I ask and she laughs.

 

"I think I'm going to have the bruise on my jaw to prove you mean business." She says and I notice for the first time that she does have a nice blue bruise in the shape of my fist along her jawline. 

 

I nod and help her push the barre back into its place by the wall. Natasha pulls a roll of sports tape out of her gym bag and starts methodically wrapping her knuckles and fingers. 

 

"Natasha" I say, getting ready to leave her to her workout, "Thanks" 


End file.
